


Skirt

by ZeroGravityInq



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Forced Feminization, Free to a good home, Gaslighting, Gen, Grooming, Harry is basically a 50s housewife, Non-Sexual Forced Feminization, Smart Petunia, dead dove do not eat, feminine!harry, good christian girl Harry, no ships, repressed sexuality, stepfordization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 07:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroGravityInq/pseuds/ZeroGravityInq
Summary: Skirt: Pressed.Shoes: Shined.Smile: ReadyHarriet Potter is ready to take on this brand new world and find herself a husband so she can have children and be the perfect housewife.But this is the 90s in the UK.And she is going to Hogwarts.And she is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.Please read the tags or the warning in first chapter kthnxDiscontinued: Feel free to take this idea but please credit and link if you do so.





	Skirt

**Author's Note:**

> This a very non-sexual story with no ships but it's dark and has very dangerous and possibly triggering ideals. Please do not read if sensitive to anything mentioned in the tags or with trained misogyny, forced body dysphoria and brainwashing. This is your only warning and I pull no punches with this one.

“What does a good girl do, Harriet?”

“A good girl is kind. A good girl is quiet. A good girl smiles. A good girl speaks only when spoken to. A good girl is polite. A good girl keeps the house and her husband happy.”

“That’s right. Good girl. Now off to start breakfast.”

“Yes Aunt Petunia.”

Harriet Potter walked quietly downstairs as her aunt let her out of her room for the day. She immediately went to the kitchen and began with turning on the hob and preheating the oven. Uncle Vernon was to be up soon and he, along with Cousin Dudley, will want a Full English from scratch. 

She started off with making bubble and squeak - chopping leeks and cabbage and tossing them into the skillet. Turning the heat down she reached into the fridge to grab the potato mash she made yesterday and mixed the softened veg in with the mash. Quickly forming them into patties and turning the hob back up to high, she fried the patties then placed them on the baking tray that her Aunt had put out for her. 

A quick word of thanks to her aunt, she placed the tomatoes and mushrooms on the tray as well, drizzled on oil and put the whole thing in the oven before starting on the kippers. While she was working on that, she made a fresh glass of juice for her aunt, started a tea service and poured a cup of coffee for Uncle Vernon who had just came downstairs. 

Silently she handed over the mug to the large man along with the paper that Aunt Petunia had placed on the edge of the counter and made sure that the muffins she had prepped the night before were within his reach. 

Turning back to the oven, in a whirlwind of activity, she finished the kippers, fried the bacon and ham, opened and warmed the beans she had made the week prior from scratch, heated and removed the trays in the oven to perfectly plate 4 plates - two for Vernon and Dudley along with a light croissant and preservatives for her and Aunt Petunia just in time for Dudley to come downstairs. 

Harriet set the table, poured a glass of orange juice and milk for Dudley. A mug of tea for uncle Vernon and Aunt petunia and a glass of cranberry juice for herself. She didn’t eat at the table with the Dursleys since she was not family but she was far too busy to eat, cleaning as she went and making sure the kitchen was spotless. She had a deeper clean to do of the kitchen later but it was marked on her to do list as she scrubbed the dishes and refilled glasses and plates and made sure things were as perfect as an 11 year old could make it. 

“Harriet, get the mail.” Her Aunt said. Uncle Vernon never spoke to her directly. Aunt Petunia was the one to give orders. It was what was expected for a good girl. 

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.”

Harriet scurried off to the door after wiping her wet hands on a dish towel, her long skirt swishing about her legs. At the door, she slipped on her outside shoes and took a step out to retrieve the mail. She waved at Mr Brummings across the street and stepped back inside. 

Swiftly she filtered the mail: bills to Uncle Vernon, a Women’s magazine to Aunt Petunia which she will ask to look at later...and a letter to one Harry Potter in the smallest bedroom at 4 Privet Drive, Surrey. 

She blinked and weighing the options, decided to give that letter to her Aunt. She didn’t know a Harry Potter and to give the letter to her Uncle will only raise his blood pressure and cause a fuss. One of her rules, though unspoken, was that Good Girls Do Not Make A Fuss and this seemed to be a Fuss Causer. 

So she turned and returned to the kitchen. She handed off the bills to Uncle Vernon who grumbled, handed the magazine and the letter to Aunt Petunia - meeting her eyes with a look that she hoped conveyed that something Funny was afoot - and started on her chores of clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen more although at this point it was spotless. 

She did not see the owl watching through the window, its eyes unusually intelligent. 

* * *

Petunia tucked the letter into her magazine with a bit of sleight of hand that made sure her precious Dudders or Vernon did not see that wretched envelope. She did silently applaud herself for training Harry - rather Harriet, so well that the child didn’t alert Vernon or do anything out of the norm.

But what to do with this? She knew the time was coming and she had few choices. It all depended on the training she had done. 

She could deny the child going to school and somehow fend off Dumbledore. She could tell Vernon and he would make a fuss but would be ultimately useless. She could lie and said she sent the child off with a private tutor. 

Or...she could make the best of it. 

“Vernon...I was wondering if you would mind terribly if I sent Harriet off to finishing school - none too different from Smeltings like Dudders is heading off to but she’s paid for via scholarship?”

Vernon grunted a bit, mentally chewing over what she said before replying. 

“Not at all Pet. It’s a full ride so we don’t have to pay anything, right?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Then that’s fine. All to make sure she winds up in her place and comes out as a perfect girl.” Vernon nodded decisively. She loved when she could convince Vernon that he was the brilliant idea maker in the house. 

“Oh thank you Vernon! I will talk to Harriet about it later!” She stood and scurried over to her husband to peck him on the cheek. The man bristled with pride, looking as pleased as punch. 

* * *

Harriet was in the middle of chores when her Aunt pulled her aside to her room. She was in between laundry loads - since it was a Monday - and was about to start her deep clean of the kitchen. 

“Take a seat, Harriet.”

Harriet sat on the pouf before her vanity in her room. It may be the smallest room in the house but it was hers. A paradise of white lace and pink, she had made most of the decor herself via cheap fabrics and reading magazines on how to make things. Her aunt did make sure she had a proper bed and desk and dresser but Uncle Vernon had given her the vanity for a rather spectacular pie she made last year and Mr. Hemmingsworth from up the street had painted all her furniture after she babysat his children when he and the Mrs went out for a date night.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia?”

Petunia had pushed back the delicate pink spread to sit on Harriet’s bed and after a moment of deliberation spoke. 

“I am sending you away to boarding school. Your...parents attended this school and although I didn’t, I think you would benefit from attending there more than Stonewall.”

Harriet tilted her head, a picture of polite curiosity while her mind turned things over. Her Aunt never mentioned her parents - good or bad - and would actively keep Uncle Vernon from speaking of them either. All she could glean was that they were very much dead and that she had inherited her mother’s green eyes and her father’s look although the resemblance was more obvious when Harriet was a smaller child with short hair. Now her hair was mid-back and kept pin straight or in an updo with a bow. 

To go to the school where her parents presumably met...this may net her a husband and she would never have to attend school again! Although she enjoyed reading, that was too much idle and she needed to stay busy. The church ladies always said that idle hands are the devil’s tool and she wanted to be good so less reading for her. Besides, she didn’t have to be smart to get a husband, just clever and with good wit. 

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.”

“We are going to pen a reply to the school and a teacher will likely come and help you get your school things. You are to obey them but do not ask more questions than expected.”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.”

“Good Girl.”

* * *

Minera sat back and squinted at the latter before her. She was sure her glasses were still working and of the prescription...and she wasn’t getting too old. 

The letter was on nice paper, muggle paper but nice. The handwriting was quite beautiful a very cultivated italic she expected from the likes of Narcissa Malfoy ne Black or even Walburga Black. 

It was the contents therein that disturbed her, however. 

_ Good Day Professor McGonagall, _

_ Thank you so very much for your invitation. I formally accept and look forward to attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I request some assistance in getting my school things as I am unsure as to where to get a wand nor any of the other things on my supply list. Thank you very much for your consideration and have a very lovely day.  _

_ Sincerely,  _

_ Harriet Potter _

She must speak with Albus for something is very much wrong. 

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow listening to Dear Future Husband resulted in this. My mind is a scary place. 
> 
> Side note the recipe for a full English I got from Sorted. https://sortedfood.com/fullenglish
> 
> Edit: After careful consideration, I think this is the end of this fict. I don't have any other ideas [yes i should have outlined this but eh] for this and there is no point of letting it languish forever. SO, if you like this idea, feel free to take it and expand on it. Just make sure to link to this and credit me.


End file.
